


Bringing Things Together

by blacktofade



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Bondage, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Situational Humiliation, Suit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 10:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18193268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktofade/pseuds/blacktofade
Summary: “Look,” Shane says over the phone. “Mistakes were made.”“Mistakes,” Ryan repeats.“I’ve got myself in a pickle.”“What have you handcuffed yourself to?” Ryan asks, cutting to the chase and there’s a pointed pause from Shane on the other end. Ryan actually has to check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped.“That’s not important,” Shane eventually says.





	Bringing Things Together

**Author's Note:**

> I lied about focusing on my longer fic. The second I first saw the new [promo shots](https://ebonybow.tumblr.com/post/183279824393/yaboybergara-ryan-bergara-and-shane-madej-for), I knew what I needed to do and God didn’t strike me down, so here we are.
> 
> As a heads-up, I wrote their bondage experience how I thought two idiots would handle it (i.e., no safeword, no easy escape for emergencies, etc.) and I don’t recommend it.
> 
> This is for the Uniforms/Suits square of my ongoing [kink bingo](https://twitter.com/blacktofade/status/1080688257325625344).

Ryan’s phone buzzes across the coffee table a little after eleven-thirty on Friday night. It’s out of reach from where he’s sprawled on the couch, but Shane’s name pops up at the top of the screen.

_hey you awake?_

It’s clearly rhetorical because Shane knows how little he sleeps.

_are you busy?_ the next message says, which is probably less rhetorical.

_do you still have the spare key to my place?_

Ryan sighs and finally rolls over enough for him to be able to grab his phone. It sounds like Shane’s probably been out drinking and has accidentally locked himself out of his place, which means Ryan’s going to have to save the day by driving over and unlocking his front door.

Ryan only recently procured one of Shane’s spare keys because he’d been on Obi-feeding duty for a few days while Shane was out of town. There’s never a good day to be locked out of your own apartment, but honestly, the timing is actually pretty perfect for Shane.

_Yeah_ , he texts back, _want me to bring it over?_

There’s no response for a long while, but the typing bubble appears and doesn’t disappear until the next message comes in almost two minutes later.

_do you still have those handcuff keys?_

That’s — that’s not the reply he’d been expecting to receive, and he wonders how many times Shane typed out and deleted it before settling on something so short and succinct. Ryan blinks at his phone and has to rearrange a few things in his brain.

“What the fuck?” he says aloud and thinks this might warrant actually calling for more information.

He takes a breath and then dials Shane’s number.

*

When they’re first pitched the idea for their latest promo photoshoot, Ryan glances at Shane, laughs, and immediately agrees. It’s better than anything else they could have come up with and he’s one hundred percent sure the fans will enjoy it.

But when Shane strolls onto set after being styled by Naomi, Ryan almost audibly gulps. He’s seen Shane in suits. They did a suit shoot for a previous promo, but the navy pinstripe is really something new for Ryan to wrap his mind around. Shane’s legs always look stupidly long, mostly because they _are_ stupidly long, but the suit material clings perfectly and Ryan finds himself letting his gaze travel up the length of them.

Even the crisp white shirt — probably an exact twin of the one Ryan's wearing — does unexpected things to him that it probably shouldn't. It's only a goddamn shirt and therefore shouldn't make him ache to slide his palms down the front just to see if he can wrinkle it. But it does.

“Whatchu lookin’ at?” Shane says in a fake twenties gangster voice and Ryan really hates that none of it detracts from his attraction. Shane drops the voice as he pats his hand against Ryan’s chest and says, “Nice digs, but I gotta say that looks suspiciously like something someone would wear if they were two kids stacked on top of each other, trying to sneak into the movies.”

He slips a finger between Ryan’s topmost buttons and tugs like he’s trying to peer inside.

Ryan bats his hand away. “Knock it off.”

“Or what? You’ll cuff me, copper?”

Ryan wonders if anyone will notice if he crawls under the table in the middle of the set and never comes back out again.

“That's — that's not what's happening here. I’m literally your partner in crime,” Ryan points out. “You realize we’re both being interrogated, right?”

“It was worth a shot,” Shane replies, as though he's actually thought about it, but then he’s moving around Ryan to go talk to their photographer de jour and Ryan gets to stare at how stupidly wide the jacket makes his shoulders appear.

Ryan quickly finds out what his biggest mistake is when Jenna steps in to start directing them. He’s hit with the realization that he really hasn’t considered the reality of being handcuffed next to Shane. Shane, who jokes endlessly the moment he’s cuffed to the bar on the desk, who glances sidelong at Ryan and says shit like, “I had a dream like this once.”

And Ryan has to sit there and be thankful that his jacket is long enough to hide his half-chub because apparently watching Shane struggle with his hands bound is a thing for him. He's not even sure it's just the handcuffs though. He thinks a big part of it is the fact that Shane really doesn't let them hold him back. He's just as mouthy as always, and Ryan understands that Shane makes a living by being the skeptical bastard that he is, but he's usually not so feisty during shoots.

“So, for this shot,” Jenna says, pulling Ryan from a dangerous line of thought, “I’d like you to grab Shane and act like you’re intimidating him.”

It puts him down a different, but no less dangerous line of thought, and living under the table until he dies seems more and more inviting with every passing minute.

“Yeah, c’mon, Ryan,” Shane goads as if Ryan needs that right now. “Intimidate me.”

Ryan starts easy, with a hand on Shane’s shoulder, glaring at him in a way that comes easily, despite Shane straight up laughing in his face. There’s a flash of a picture being taken and Ryan shifts to grab at Shane’s ear instead. It’s a solid joke that he thinks should translate well through the lens. Shane acts concerned just long enough for them to get another shot.

“You call that intimidation?” Shane teases and Ryan doesn’t even think about it before curling his fingers into Shane’s tie and _pulling_.

For a fraction of a second, Shane does actually look surprised, his eyes wide and mouth slack, but then his face does something dumb and they get another shot, momentarily blinding Ryan. When the white spots clear, Shane’s grinning up at him, color on his cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“Feel better?” Shane asks and Ryan quickly lets go of his tie and straightens his own jacket in an attempt to collect himself. “I always knew you had it in you.”

Ryan glances over at Jenna, praying they’re done for the day and he can escape. He always tries his best to be professional, but sometimes, Shane really pushes his luck.

“Are we good?” Ryan asks the room, and Jenna looks up from where she’s hunched over the camera by their photographer.

“These look great,” she says with a smile. “Let’s get one last side-by-side and then we should have everything we need.”

“Does that mean you’ll let me go?” Shane asks, shifting his arm in a way to maximize the clanking of handcuffs against metal. It’s obnoxious and Ryan doesn’t expect anything less from him.

Jenna humors him with a smile and Ryan swallows his pride and drags the extra chair back beside Shane’s own.

“What are we doing?” Shane asks. “Mobster bros? Miserable con-men? Jilted lovers?”

Jenna smiles again. “Let’s try serious,” she suggests. “Show us how you really feel about getting caught.”

Ryan lets his expression shift into his best _resting bitch face_ , while beside him, Shane straightens his spine, props his arm up on the handcuffing bar, and probably makes an expression that’s way too believable.

They get three or four consecutive shots and then Jenna gives a thumbs up and moves towards them.

“Lookin’ good, guys. Give us five to double check everything, but we should be done.” She sets a key on the table in front of Ryan, which he belatedly realizes belongs to their handcuffs. “They’re all yours. You can decide if you want to let Shane out or not.”

Ryan wants to put his face down on the desk and never lift it again. It’s too much.

He looks at the keys and then over at Shane, who slouches back in his chair and raises a challenging eyebrow at him. Ryan’s not strong enough at all to unpack it. He grabs the keys, unlocks his own cuffs, and then sets everything in front of Shane.

“Let yourself out,” he says and Shane’s expression softens in humor.

“Aw, Ryan,” he says. “That’s no fun.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

Shane laughs and actually does free himself, but when he drops the keys back to the desk, Ryan swipes them and tucks them into the pocket of his pants.

“You worried, Ryan?” Shane asks, laughing again. “You think I might try something?”

“I don’t know your life,” Ryan quotes, because it’s easier than admitting anything damning. “I’m gonna go change.”

Shane makes a noise of acknowledgment, but seems more interested in picking up the cuffs and beginning to tug on them, like he’s testing their strength. Ryan turns away because he's already seen enough to ruin a perfectly good day.

He leaves without looking back.

*

“Look,” Shane says over the phone when Ryan’s halfway through pulling on pants, because if he has to leave the house, he should probably get dressed. “Mistakes were made.”

“Mistakes,” Ryan repeats.

“I’ve got myself in a pickle.”

“What have you handcuffed yourself to?” Ryan asks, cutting to the chase and there’s a pointed pause from Shane on the other end. Ryan actually has to check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped.

“That’s not important,” Shane eventually says. “I thought I had it handled.”

“Why would you handcuff yourself to something when you knew you didn’t have the keys?”

“These are prop cuffs, Ryan,” Shane points out like Ryan’s the idiot in this situation, which, for the record, he isn’t. “You can pop them open with anything long and thin.”

“So why am I having to drive to your place and free you?”

There’s another pause. “Everything is out of reach. I misjudged the length of my own arms.”

Ryan rubs the bridge of his nose. “Shane.”

“Look, texting you for help was not high up on the list of things I wanted to do tonight. You were the last person I saw with the keys, and I figured you’d be, uh, discrete.”

“Discrete.”

“We can talk about it when you get here,” Shane suggests and Ryan has a sudden realization that should have been obvious from the start.

“Are you naked?”

For some reason, this whole time, Ryan’s been thinking about Shane handcuffing himself to something stupid like his own coffee table. He never really entertained the idea that maybe Shane was doing it for sexual purposes. His mouth dries out and he feels his face begin to heat.

“Not entirely,” Shane admits quietly, which might be even worse. Now his brain is trying to figure out what exactly Shane has got himself into. “I promise you won’t be exposed to anything, uh, weird if you come over.”

“The fact that we’re having this conversation means I already have been.”

Shane sighs hard enough to make the line crackle.

“I don’t really have anyone else I can call,” Shane tells him. “Not someone I trust, like you. We can forget this ever happened, but I just need you to free me first.”

Ryan rubs his forehead and can’t help but feel bad because Shane actually sounds serious.

“Okay, okay,” he relents. “I’ll come save you, but I get one free joke out of this.”

Shane lets out a huff of laughter and Ryan can practically hear him roll his eyes.

“Fine,” he agrees. “But you better make it good.”

*

“Hello?” Ryan calls out as he shuts Shane’s front door behind him and toes off his shoes. It’s only taken a few minutes to drive over to Shane's apartment, but he’s been trying to brace himself the entire time. He has no idea what he’s about to find. “Shane?”

The living room light is on and Obi’s curled up on the arm of the couch. He lifts his head when Ryan enters and Ryan stops briefly to scratch behind his ear.

“I'm in the bedroom,” comes Shane’s faint voice, and Ryan swallows because things are becoming very real, very quickly.

“Wish me luck, bud,” he whispers to Obi, who chirps to signify his annoyance that Ryan’s stopped petting him, but doesn’t actually move.

Ryan takes a steadying breath and begins padding his way down the hallway. Everything looks the same from when he last visited, but now there’s something buzzing underneath that makes his fingertips itch, and he’s not entirely sure he likes it. The bedroom door is open slightly, but not enough that he can see inside.

He raps on it twice with his knuckles and gently says, “Hey, you decent?”

“I’ve never been decent in my life and I’m not going to start now,” Shane’s replies and Ryan takes it as approval to push the door open the rest of the way.

Ryan honestly doesn’t know what to expect on the other side, but Shane tucked in bed, the covers drawn all the way up to his chin, isn’t exactly it. He was picturing something…kinkier. With less clothing involved. Except then Shane waves at him with his cuffed hand, letting the metal clank against the bed frame, like Ryan should ignore the elephant in the room, but it just emphasizes that he’s missed something glaringly obvious.

“What the fuck,” he says out of pure surprise. “Is that the promo shoot suit?”

Shane doesn’t even skip a beat before replying, “Try saying that five times fast.”

Ryan doesn’t know why, he thinks it’s just an automatic reaction, but he shuts the door behind himself, like anyone other than Obi might stroll in and catch them.

“What the fuck?” he says again, this time more of a question, and he finds himself stepping further inside to get a better look.

Shane's watching like a very vulnerable part of him is exposed and he's just waiting to see how Ryan will react before he starts picking up the pieces and doing damage control.

“You —” Ryan says, but the thought goes nowhere.

“Me,” Shane mimics, and Ryan finds himself needing to know what he's become involved with.

Without saying a word, Ryan moves towards the bed and uses a careful hand to grip the corner of Shane’s covers. Shane doesn’t try to deter him, just watches like he knows what Ryan’s about to find. Slowly, Ryan draws the sheets down and there’s no doubt in his mind that it's _definitely_ the pinstripe suit from the promo shoot. The shirt is rumpled now, not unlike how he’d wanted to mess it up with his own hands before, and it’s unbuttoned from throat to hip.

He sees the smattering of chest hair between Shanes nipples and when he uncovers Shane's navel and subsequent happy trail, he realizes Shane’s not wearing anything else. He immediately stops before he can see anything damning and lets the covers fall back around Shane’s waist.

“That's on you,” Shane says. “I said you wouldn't see anything weird and tried my best to cover up. You made the very conscious decision to look.”

“Jesus christ, Shane.”

Shane lets his head thud against the pillows below and abortively moves his cuffed arm to rub his forehead, before realizing he can’t reach. He lets his hand hang beside his face and says, “Yeah, I fucked up.”

“Did you steal that suit from set?”

Shane lifts his head again and squints at Ryan. “Is that the part you're most worried about? ‘Cause if so, boy, am I breathing a sigh of relief.”

“Naomi brought those outfits in,” Ryan insists. “They weren't ours to keep.”

“I know, Ryan, that's why I asked her first.”

“You asked her if you could take that suit home so you could tie yourself up and jerk off?” He frowns at Shane pointedly. “Something tells me you might get a call from HR Monday morning.”

“I asked if I could borrow it with the promise that I would have it dry cleaned and back in the office next week. She said it was okay. You’re the only one strangely worried about this.”

Ryan rubs his forehead, feeling an old, familiar panic lurking around the edges of his brain.

“I should have just called Curly,” Shane continues and Ryan shakes his head.

“Why?” he asks and Shane scoffs.

“Because, weirdly enough, he'd judge a lot less than you right now.”

“No,” Ryan corrects gently. “I mean, why all this?”

Shane blinks and then laughs. “Why does anyone do anything? ‘Cause they want to.”

Ryan looks at Shane's wrist where it's snuggly pinned against the metal cuff. There are red marks along his skin like he's been tugging at it for a while and his fingers are paler than usual, hinting that the blood flow isn't that great.

Ryan wets his lips and knows it’s bad idea before he says, “You've got them too tight.”

There’s a long pause between them.

“What?” Shane asks incredulously.

“The handcuff. It's too tight. That's not good for your hand.”

“Oh, my bad. I didn't realize you were an expert. I had a little trouble seeing as how I couldn't, and still can't do anything about it.” He rattles the cuff again as though to make his point, and shifts under the covers. “Which is exactly where you come in.”

Shane looks at him expectantly and when Ryan can't bring himself to move, he raises both eyebrows at him.

“You remembered the key right? Or, is this when you tell me how much my freedom is worth?”

“W-what?” Ryan stammers, because that’s not a good path for his mind to wander down. Not when Shane's handcuffed in front of him again, but this time _has his dick out_. Sure, Ryan can't see it, but he knows it's there.

“You'll let me go for ten Hail Marys and two Unsolved episodes where I admit ghosts might be real?”

“No,” Ryan insists. “I'm not going to force you to do anything. I just — this is a lot.”

“Yeah, well I didn't plan on sharing with the class today. Just got lucky I suppose.” He sighs when he sees Ryan's expression. “I really should have thought about it more before texting _you_ of all people.”

The words actually sting. Ryan likes to think he's a pretty good choice when it comes to helping people, but apparently Shane thinks otherwise. He opens his mouth to apologize and Shane flaps his free hand at him.

“I don't mean it like that. I mean, if I called Curly, he would absolutely make me regret the day I was born, but he'd let me go and just congratulate me on being a spicy white boy or something. With you — you'll have questions. I can already see them clogging up your brain. I bet you don't even know which one to ask first.

“Why would you do this, Shane?” Shane continues, putting on an abysmal attempt at Ryan's Unsolved voice. “How could you get halfway through jerking off before realizing you didn't have a way to escape, Shane? Is it true that you're the world's biggest idiot, Shane?”

“That's not true,” Ryan gets out, voice sounding stronger than he feels. “I'd never ask if you were an idiot because I already know you are.”

“ _Ryan,”_ Shane complains, dragging the syllables into a laugh. “I'm helpless; have mercy.”

“You're not helpless,” Ryan argues. “I'm pretty sure you still have the upper hand in this situation.”

“Only because it's physically handcuffed higher than yours. C'mon, put me out of my misery. Ask your stupid questions.”

“I don't have stupid questions. They're completely valid.” Shane levels him with a look and Ryan sighs. “Okay, but really: why?”

“Couldn’t you pick an easier one?”

“You really don’t need to answer anything,” Ryan tells him and Shane thins his lips and seems to cave.

“What would you do if I said I was uncomfortable and wanted you to uncuff me?” Shane asks and Ryan begins to worry that maybe he really should just uncuff Shane and leave.

Without hesitation, he says, “I'd uncuff you.”

“And if I said I didn't ever want to talk about this?”

“I'd never talk about this. What's your point?”

“My point is I could have ended this the second you walked in here.”

Ryan meets Shane's gaze and he thinks something heavy passes between them.

“So, why didn’t you?” Ryan asks, feeling like his bravery in this circumstance might just be synonymous with stupidity. He stares down at the suit that gave him so much trouble at the beginning of the week and belatedly realizes that his life could be the source material of any poorly-written porno if they tried hard enough.

“I don't think you were acting when you pulled my tie,” Shane says and Ryan can't look away from the strip of silk — now hanging unknotted around Shane's neck — that might be about to ruin their friendship.

“Sometimes you just don't know when to shut your mouth,” Ryan replies and the corner of Shane's lips twitches.

“Like right now?” he asks.

“I was so annoyed with you,” Ryan admits. “I felt like I was going crazy.”

“Yeah, I kinda laid it on thick. It was just so easy to get you all flustered.”

Ryan slips his hands in his pockets, just to do something to stop them from trembling, but his fingers encounter the body-warmed handcuff key and it really doesn't help. He stares down at Shane as the cogs in his brain begin to turn.

“Did you plan this?”

“You mean did I intentionally trap myself so I'd have an excuse to ask you to come over and find me like this?” Ryan swallows thickly because the implications are almost more than he can bear, but Shane shakes his head and offers a wry smile. “No, I really am just an idiot, but I figured you were a safe bet to help me out. I knew you'd be curious, but probably wouldn't stick around long enough to ask questions.”

“I foiled that plan, huh?”

“I definitely expected more freaking out from you. You went from one hundred to zero surprisingly quick. I can't believe the suit was your biggest issue.”

“I didn't think I'd see it again so soon.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

Ryan reaches out, skimming his fingertips along the closest of Shane's lapels. The material is as soft and silky as he'd been hoping it would be. When he meets Shane's gaze, he looks expectant, and possibly like he's holding his breath.

“You look good in it,” he admits and Shane exhales loudly. His legs shift under the covers and Ryan can't focus beyond the sound of bare skin against soft cotton.

“Look,” Shane says suddenly. “I know I said I wouldn't expose you to anything weird, and I think we might be beyond that, but I'm not looking to get you involved in anything you don't want.”

“Shane,” Ryan interrupts. “I'm not the one handcuffed. I could have released you and gone home already. I didn't know what I was walking into, and I mean, for what it's worth, I'm throwing out a general _holy shit_ for the occasion. But I think I learned a few things about myself during that photoshoot.”

“You like to be handcuffed, too?” Shane assumes and Ryan shakes his head and figures he might as well reveal his whole hand.

“No, I like _you_ to be handcuffed.”

Shane looks a little like Ryan's physically punched him in the stomach, and he makes a noise like it too.

“Oh god,” he says, voice breaking halfway through before he clears his throat. “Well, I've got good news for you.”

Shane rattles the handcuffs pointedly and Ryan's mouth goes dry. He licks his lips and drags his gaze away from reddened skin to meet Shane's knowing stare.

“Did you really only get halfway through jerking off before you texted?”

Shane swallows and a flush rises, strangely starting from his chest and spreading outwards; crawling up his jaw to his cheeks until he looks slightly feverish.

“I thought it would be worse if, y'know, you showed up and I was covered in, uh, jizz.”

Ryan thinks about how differently it could have gone if he'd pulled the sheets away from Shane to reveal _that_. His face heats and he finds himself glancing down to Shane's waist.

“Are you planning on...finishing?”

He can see the outline of Shane's legs as they spread apart under the covers and he's almost entirely sure he can see the press of his erection.

“Are you offering to help?”

Ryan lets one hand graze the sheets as he says, “Did you want me to?”

“You just told me you liked seeing me handcuffed and I haven’t been able to think straight since because all the blood in my body is now in my dick.” Shane says, pulling against the cuff as he shifts and looks at Ryan. “That’s a _yes_ in case you need it spelled out.”

Ryan’s chest feels tight with the breath he suddenly can’t take because he wants everything too much. He shouldn't be allowed any of this, but Shane's offering and he's not about to say no.

“Can you free me for a second?” Shane asks, seemingly out of nowhere, but Ryan finds himself snapping out of his daze enough to pull the keys from his pocket.

“Yeah, is it too much?”

He unfastens the handcuff from Shane’s wrist and Shane rubs at his skin for a second while he shakes his head.

“No, I can see you getting all — ” he taps his temple. “Don’t think about it too hard.”

Ryan doesn’t have a response for him, not that it matters because then Shane’s hooking a hand behind Ryan’s head and pulling him in for a kiss. It throws him off balance and he’s forced to put a hand out to catch himself on the bed, but he doesn’t let their mouths break contact. It’s not even very high up on Ryan’s list of good kisses, but the fact that it’s _Shane_ and they _actually doing it_ is enough to settle it a few notches higher.

He gets his free hand against the side of Shane’s face and takes Shane’s advice by letting his thoughts go, focusing on nothing but the feeling of Shane’s mouth on his own. Shane doesn’t even let him get his bearings before he’s licking between Ryan’s lips to deepen the kiss. Ryan makes a muffled noise, but it’s anything but a protest. It’s mostly because Shane tugs at him, forcing him to sit heavily on the edge of the bed, which creaks under the additional weight.

Ryan never in a million years would have guessed this is how his night would turn out. It’s all so surreal, going from a passing fantasy to basically getting throat punched by Shane’s apparent kinks. Shane’s pretty predictable, apart from when he isn’t. Which is fine, except that when he isn’t predictable, he somehow sees it as a challenge, like he always has to go one hundred percent or it isn’t worth it. Meanwhile, Ryan’s left to clutch at whatever he can while Shane takes his life screeching around corners at seventy miles an hour.

Though Ryan doesn’t think he has any room to complain when it’s what got them into this situation, and Shane’s finally letting him in the passenger seat to enjoy the ride via a controlled kind of chaos.

Ryan slows the kiss down, just to let himself enjoy it, and he can feel Shane relaxing beneath him, like he’s not so worried Ryan might pull away now, like he’s realizing Ryan is there to stay. Ryan has only kissed one other guy in his life and it was nothing like it is now with Shane. There’s the sharp drag of Shane’s stubble mixed with the softness of his lips. Ryan’s first time had involved a lot of alcohol and a lack of finesse. Shane kisses like he knows what he wants and how to get it.

When Shane slides his fingers into Ryan’s hair and uses his grip to pull Ryan away, Ryan feels lightheaded from everything.

“This is the plot twist of the century,” Ryan mumbles and Shane rubs his thumb along the wetness of Ryan’s bottom lip.

When Ryan sits back, he can’t help but feel like this is where he either sinks or swims, but with the way Shane’s looking at him, he thinks he might get saved even if he does sink. He trails his gaze down Shane’s body and Shane shifts like it’s a physical touch.

“Can I?” Ryan asks, hand hovering above the edge of the covers and Shane nods his head with more enthusiasm that needed, but it makes Ryan smile.

Ryan’s already had a sneak preview of what’s beneath the sheets, but now that he’s allowed to look, he takes his time revealing inch by slow inch of Shane’s stupidly long body. Ryan already knows most of it; it’s impossible to spend over two years sleeping in beds and tiny hotel rooms together and avoid the inevitable. He knows how Shane looks with his shirt off and he knows the cut of his hips from when he complains about overeating and unbuttons his pants. But the space between belly button and mid-thigh is new and exciting, and Ryan wants it more than he thought he would.

Shane clearly wasn’t kidding about all the blood rushing to his dick because he’s reddened and arching up towards his stomach, like this is everything he’s ever wanted. He can feel the heat radiating from Shane without even needing to touch him, but by the time he’s pulled the covers the rest of the way down his legs, he really wants to.

He slides a hand around Shane’s ankle and squeezes gently.

“Ever tied up your ankles at the same time?” Ryan asks and Shane’s cock twitches noticeably. Ryan smiles at him and shifts into the space between Shane’s spread knees, slowly sliding his hands up the insides of his legs until they're settled high up against the warmth of his inner thighs. “Maybe another time?”

Before Shane can agree, he moves a hand higher, rubbing the flat of his palm along the underside of Shane’s cock. It shifts beneath his fingers and Shane draws in a breath so loudly it sounds like a moan.

“Been waiting a while to be touched?” Ryan teases, letting his thumb rest just under the head, and he wonders how quickly Shane will come once he gets his hand around him properly. “You got any lotion I can use?”

“I’ll do one better,” Shane grits out, and shoves a hand beneath his pillows, feeling around for something Ryan can’t see. When he pulls it out again, he’s clutching a bottle of lube and Ryan quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Another thing you didn’t want to expose me to when I got here?” he asks. “Have anything else hidden under there?”

Shane actually reaches back under and Ryan’s heart leaps into his throat at the thought of there being yet another dark and dirty secret. Except that when Shane pulls his hand out, he’s just giving Ryan the finger and grinning to himself like he’s the funniest guy in town.

“You idiot,” Ryan says, despite trying not to laugh. “C’mon, you’re going back in the shackles.”

He shifts, leaning forwards until he's able to grab Shane's wrists and wrestle them above his head, and Shane stops looking amused and turns flushed and quiet instead.

“God, Ryan,” he mutters, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I — ”

“What’s wrong? Big guy likes to be held down?”

Ryan flexes, pushing just a little firmer against Shane’s arms, and Shane’s hips leave the bed as he arches up looking for friction against his cock that isn’t there. If Ryan thought Shane was hard before, it’s nothing compared to now. He’s actually leaking against his own skin, the tip of his dick wet like Ryan’s put his mouth around it. It might be the only thing Ryan thinks about for the rest of eternity when he jerks off.

“Oh my god,” he says, a little awed by the reaction. “You do.”

Shane draws in a shuddering breath and looks at Ryan as though he’d glare if he had the strength. “Thought that was obvious.”

“No, no,” Ryan says, shaking his head, feeling powerful with the information. “This is something else entirely.”

He hesitates for a moment, wondering if he can just watch Shane come apart while holding him exactly where he wants him, but he knows he can’t let himself get distracted. He has needs and they’re specific.

He squeezes Shane’s wrists one last time before carefully sitting back and staring down at him.

“How do you want to do this?” he asks and Shane tilts his head back to look at the framework of his headboard.

It sends a thrill through Ryan’s body as Shane raises his hands to line them up with the middle-most bar, where Ryan knows he’ll be able to easily thread the cuffs through to restrain both of his wrists. When he looks at Ryan, he nods, like he’s giving the go-ahead and Ryan isn’t about deny himself the pleasure.

He picks up the handcuffs and carefully fastens them to Shane’s wrists, enjoying the contrast of the cool metal and Shane’s warm skin. He doesn’t tighten them as much as Shane had first had them, but it’s enough that when Shane moves his arms, testing the give of everything, he can’t move far. It _clinks_ satisfyingly against the bar of the headboard and Ryan runs his hands down the length of Shane’s silken sleeves, feeling his biceps shift under his jacket each time he tenses.

“How’s that?” he asks and Shane looks a little like his brain is still trying to catch up with the situation. Ryan waits patiently, slipping his hands under the collar of Shane’s shirt to feel the sharpness of his shoulders until Shane eventually meets his gaze.

“What are you going to do now you have me?”

“Hmm. The possibilities are endless,” Ryan tells him, sliding his hands down until the tips of his fingers barely brush his collarbone and realizing as he says it, how true it actually is. He has Shane spread out before him and he doesn’t even know where to start.

So, he makes it easier on himself by starting where his hands already are: Shane’s chest. It’s firm beneath his palms and he can feel it rise and fall with each breath Shane takes. For a moment, he rests his fingertips over the point of Shane’s heart, where it’s thudding rapidly behind his ribs, and he appreciates that maybe he’s not alone in feeling slightly overwhelmed.

He leans down and presses his lips to Shane’s skin, nudging aside his opened shirt just to swipe his tongue over one nipple. The handcuffs clank as Shane’s body jerks and Ryan does it again to see if it’s a pattern — it is. He glances up at Shane, who’s flushed and rumpled, but seeing his hands bound above him does something _primal_ to Ryan. He scrapes his bottom teeth over Shane’s nipple and reaches down to get a hand around his cock.

“ _Ryan_ ,” Shane pleads pushing his hips up into the touch and Ryan likes that he’s not even trying to hide how he feels.

His body responds to every touch from Ryan, from the way his muscles twitch under his skin as Ryan kisses a line down his stomach, to the way his cock leaks like it’s the first handjob he’s ever received. When Ryan folds himself practically in half to press a kiss under the head of Shane’s dick, it shifts against his mouth and Shane makes a raw, ragged noise.

Ryan sits up, feeling pretty proud of himself, but the lube bottle is still beside him, untouched, and Shane deserves much, much more than the dry strokes he’s getting. For some reason, it's wetting his palm with lube that makes it all seem official, as though biting Shane's nipples and kissing his dick is nothing more than a usual evening for them. But he lets it warm against his skin before getting his hand back around him and Shane seems to appreciate it.

“Oh _god_ ,” Shane gets out, jerking on the handcuffs so hard that there’s an ominous crack, like they’ve loosened a notch.

“Don’t Hulk your way out of those,” Ryan tells him, speeding up his hand because now that everything is slicker, it’s perfect.

Even though the prop cuffs probably aren’t as strong as real ones, Ryan would be impressed if Shane broke them. His dick is more than a little interested in the thought, and it’s pressing incessantly against the inside of his fly in an unignorable way. He feels proud of his multitasking skills when he never once breaks rhythm as he unbuttons and unzips his own pants just to relieve the pressure.

“Keep talking to me,” Shane pleads, like it’s another secret part of him he’s revealing to Ryan, but he's staring down at Ryan's opened pants as though that's all he really cares about.

“What do you want me to say?” Ryan asks, because he’s never thought himself to be any good at dirty talk, but Shane just shrugs and shakes his head.

“ _Anything_.”

Ryan honestly doesn’t know where to begin, but as he takes in the full scene they’ve somehow created, he lets himself have just one thing.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out about this?” he starts, leaning up just a little further so he can loom over Shane. “You thought you could do this and get away with it?”

Shane doesn’t respond, just moans and shifts under the attention.

“Were you thinking about this the whole shoot? You wanted someone to tie you up and take you apart?”

Shane swallows, his throat shifting noticeably as he tips his head back and nods.

“Were you thinking about me doing this? Did you think about me fucking you?”

He squeezes at the tip of Shane’s cock, unable to discern what’s lube and what’s precome, but he’s a mess regardless, and every time Ryan’s knuckles brush Shane’s stomach, they leave behind another smear of wetness.

Ryan folds at the waist, just enough to lean down like he’s letting Shane in a secret, and says, “I did. I thought about it.”

Shane comes without warning before Ryan even expects him to, and it’s one of the best compliments Ryan’s ever received. He strokes Shane through it, letting him drip come across his stomach and hips until Ryan’s sure he can’t wring anything more from him.

Shane’s skin is mottled pink from exertion, from his chest to his face, and it goes well with the deep blue of the jacket. Without thinking, Ryan runs a hand through the mess on Shane's belly, smearing it higher just to see something so obscene framed by the suit. The contrast makes Ryan's cock ache and he wishes he could take a photo and pin it to his fridge.

“Oh my god,” Shane says between panting breaths like he’s just finished running around the block. “ _Ryan_.”

He says it like he can’t believe everything they've just done.

“I’m not letting you free,” Ryan tells him, loving that despite everything, Shane’s cock still twitches feebly like it has anything left to give.

“I want to put my hands on you,” he insists but Ryan shakes his head.

“Next time,” he promises and enjoys the way Shane’s expression shifts, like he never thought he’d be allowed more than one night with Ryan.

He doesn’t need Shane’s help in shoving his own pants and underwear down around his thighs, and he doesn’t need help getting a hand around his poor, ignored erection and jerking himself off like he might die if he doesn’t. But he does learn a new thing about himself in that he really, _really_ likes having Shane’s heavy gaze trail down his body until it focuses, without shame, on Ryan’s cock.

“What else have you thought about doing to me?” Shane asks and Ryan isn’t sure he has the strength to respond in detail.

“Everything,” he grits out, getting flashes from his imagination: Shane cuffed and on his knees, sucking Ryan’s cock; Shane handcuffed to a bed, begging for Ryan to fuck him; Ryan pinning him down with his own strength and grinding against him until they’re both losing it.

“I want it all,” Shane tells him earnestly and it’s too much for Ryan to handle.

He’s been too amped for too long and Shane’s cock has softened between his legs already, but Ryan comes over it without a second thought, heaving out a breath until his lungs burn. He presses a hand against Shane’s shoulder to stabilize himself and then laughs, feeling half-mad from it. He can’t wrap his mind around how differently his night has gone. He was expecting a quiet Friday at home, but now Shane’s gone and made a little Ryan-shaped hole in his life, just for him, and he’s crawled into it without a second thought.

Before he can think too much about it, he leans all the way down, hooking his clean hand under Shane’s chin to tilt his head and kiss him. It’s unhurried and surprisingly tender considering Shane's still handcuffed and covered in come, and Ryan finds himself melting into it without a care, letting Shane’s tongue lure him deeper into nothingness.

But just as he shifts his face for a new angle, there’s a loud _ping_ from beside his head and something hits the wall opposite. Shane pushes a curse into his mouth and Ryan sits up abruptly, breaking the moment.

“What the fuck?” he asks aloud, because Shane’s now halfway free from the handcuffs and when he glances over, the hinged part of the cuff is sitting on the floor beside Shane’s closet. There’s a scuff in the wooden door from the force of being struck and Ryan looks back at Shane in surprise.

“Huh,” Shane says and Ryan can’t stop the laugh that escapes him.

“I warned you about Hulking out of them. Guess you don't know your own strength.”

Shane dangles the remaining cuff in front of his own face and then looks at Ryan. “Maybe I should have just tried harder to break out before texting you.”

“And miss out on this?” Ryan gestures down at his own body, half expecting Shane to laugh at how ridiculous he looks still mostly dressed, but with his pants around his thighs. But Shane doesn't laugh. Instead, he reaches out to put his hands on Ryan's bare hips, his palms feeling warm, even on Ryan's overheated body.

“That's a good point,” he says as though Ryan wasn't joking, and Ryan lets the compliment wrap around him. “Maybe we should have a moment of silence for what really brought us together.”

“Handcuffs bring a lot of things together,” Ryan points out. “Mostly wrists.”

“That was your one joke,” Shane warns and Ryan scoffs.

“That doesn't count. It wasn't even at your expense.”

“I had to hear it with my own two ears. It counts.”

“I'll see you in court,” Ryan jokes and Shane rolls his eyes.

“You think that'll change my mind?”

“No, but I could lock you up and interrogate you until you do.”

“Yeah? What with?” Shane asks, shaking the broken handcuffs at him by twisting his wrist around. The motion is somehow enough to break the other half, dropping them into a broken mess on the sheets beside Shane's chest. They both stare at them and Shane's the first to laugh. “I rest my case.”

Ryan doesn't let himself be deterred. He can see the welts on Shane's wrists and wants to trace them with his tongue. If he's lucky, he thinks they might bruise. He wants more of it any way he can.

Carefully, he tugs the loosened tie from around Shane's neck, letting him feel every inch as it slides free. He holds it up for Shane to see, his hands near the middle as he pulls it taut.

“Are you free this weekend?” Ryan asks, meeting Shane's wide-eyed stare. He looks like a whole new world has been opened before him, and honestly, Ryan feels about the same.

“I don't have plans, if that's what you mean,” Shane says faintly. “But free isn't a word I want to use when describing how I'll spend my weekend, if you're offering.”

Ryan grins and finds himself being dragged down by Shane's hands, pulling him into an insistent kiss. It's perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to share feelings, you can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/blacktofade) and [Tumblr](http://blacktofade.tumblr.com/).


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